No More Learning

It can take up all. I must look out,
that I may not miss the opportunity. Oh, how it seems to shine in my
head! I don't think the jewel can shine brighter. But I haven't the
jewel; not that I cry about that--no, I must go higher up, into
splendor and joy! I feel so confident, and yet I am afraid. It's a
difficult step to take, and yet it must be taken. Onward, therefore,
straight onward! "

She took a few steps, such as a crawling animal may take, and soon
found herself on a road beside which people dwelt; but there were
flower gardens as well as kitchen gardens. And she sat down to rest by
a kitchen garden.

"What a number of different creatures there are that I never knew!
and how beautiful and great the world is! But one must look round in
it, and not stay in one spot. " And then she hopped into the kitchen
garden. "How green it is here! how beautiful it is here! "

"I know that," said the Caterpillar, on the leaf, "my leaf is
the largest here. It hides half the world from me, but I don't care
for the world. "

"Cluck, cluck! " And some fowls came. They tripped about in the
cabbage garden. The Fowl who marched at the head of them had a long
sight, and she spied the Caterpillar on the green leaf, and pecked
at it, so that the Caterpillar fell on the ground, where it twisted
and writhed.

The Fowl looked at it first with one eye and then with the
other, for she did not know what the end of this writhing would be.

"It doesn't do that with a good will," thought the Fowl, and
lifted up her head to peck at the Caterpillar.

The Toad was so horrified at this, that she came crawling straight
up towards the Fowl.

"Aha, it has allies," quoth the Fowl. "Just look at the crawling
thing! " And then the Fowl turned away. "I don't care for the little
green morsel; it would only tickle my throat. " The other fowls took
the same view of it, and they all turned away together.

"I writhed myself free," said the Caterpillar. "What a good
thing it is when one has presence of mind! But the hardest thing
remains to be done, and that is to get on my leaf again. Where is it? "

And the little Toad came up and expressed her sympathy. She was
glad that in her ugliness she had frightened the fowls.

"What do you mean by that? " cried the Caterpillar. "I wriggled
myself free from the Fowl. You are very disagreeable to look at.
Cannot I be left in peace on my own property? Now I smell cabbage; now
I am near my leaf. Nothing is so beautiful as property. But I must
go higher up. "

"Yes, higher up," said the little Toad; "higher-up! She feels just
as I do; but she's not in a good humor to-day. That's because of the
fright. We all want to go higher up. " And she looked up as high as
ever she could.

The stork sat in his nest on the roof of the farm-house. He
clapped with his beak, and the Mother-stork clapped with hers.

"How high up they live! " thought the Toad. "If one could only
get as high as that! "

In the farm-house lived two young students; the one was a poet and
the other a scientific searcher into the secrets of nature. The one
sang and wrote joyously of everything that God had created, and how it
was mirrored in his heart. He sang it out clearly, sweetly, richly, in
well-sounding verses; while the other investigated created matter
itself, and even cut it open where need was. He looked upon God's
creation as a great sum in arithmetic--subtracted, multiplied, and
tried to know it within and without, and to talk with understanding
concerning it; and that was a very sensible thing; and he spoke
joyously and cleverly of it. They were good, joyful men, those two.

"There sits a good specimen of a toad," said the naturalist. "I
must have that fellow in a bottle of spirits. "

"You have two of them already," replied the poet. "Let the thing
sit there and enjoy its life. "

"But it's so wonderfully ugly," persisted the first.

"Yes, if we could find the jewel in its head," said the poet, "I
too should be for cutting it open. '

"A jewel! " cried the naturalist. "You seem to know a great deal
about natural history. "

"But is there not something beautiful in the popular belief that
just as the toad is the ugliest of animals, it should often carry
the most precious jewel in its head? Is it not just the same thing
with men? What a jewel that was that Aesop had, and still more,
Socrates! "

The Toad did not hear any more, nor did she understand half of
what she had heard. The two friends walked on, and thus she escaped
the fate of being bottled up in spirits.

"Those two also were speaking of the jewel," said the Toad to
herself. "What a good thing that I have not got it! I might have
been in a very disagreeable position. "

Now there was a clapping on the roof of the farm-house.
Father-Stork was making a speech to his family, and his family was
glancing down at the two young men in the kitchen garden.

"Man is the most conceited creature! " said the Stork. "Listen
how their jaws are wagging; and for all that they can't clap properly.
They boast of their gifts of eloquence and their language! Yes, a fine
language truly! Why, it changes in every day's journey we make. One of
them doesn't understand another. Now, we can speak our language over
the whole earth--up in the North and in Egypt. And then men are not
able to fly, moreover. They rush along by means of an invention they
call 'railway;' but they often break their necks over it. It makes
my beak turn cold when I think of it. The world could get on without
men. We could do without them very well, so long as we only keep frogs
and earth-worms. "

"That was a powerful speech," thought the little Toad. "What a
great man that is yonder! and how high he sits! Higher than ever I saw
any one sit yet; and how he can swim! " she cried, as the Stork
soared away through the air with outspread pinions.

And the Mother-Stork began talking in the nest, and told about
Egypt and the waters of the Nile, and the incomparable mud that was to
be found in that strange land; and all this sounded new and very
charming to the little Toad.

"I must go to Egypt! " said she. "If the Stork or one of his
young ones would only take me! I would oblige him in return. Yes, I
shall get to Egypt, for I feel so happy! All the longing and all the
pleasure that I feel is much better than having a jewel in one's
head. "

And it was just she who had the jewel. That jewel was the
continual striving and desire to go upward--ever upward. It gleamed in
her head, gleamed in joy, beamed brightly in her longing.

Then, suddenly, up came the Stork. He had seen the Toad in the
grass, and stooped down and seized the little creature anything but
gently. The Stork's beak pinched her, and the wind whistled; it was
not exactly agreeable, but she was going upward--upward towards
Egypt--and she knew it; and that was why her eyes gleamed, and a spark
seemed to fly out of them.

"Quunk! --ah! "

The body was dead--the Toad was killed! But the spark that had
shot forth from her eyes; what became of that?

The sunbeam took it up; the sunbeam carried the jewel from the
head of the toad. Whither?

Ask not the naturalist; rather ask the poet. He will tell it
thee under the guise of a fairy tale; and the Caterpillar on the
cabbage, and the Stork family belong to the story. Think! the
Caterpillar is changed, and turns into a beautiful butterfly; the
Stork family flies over mountains and seas, to the distant Africa, and
yet finds the shortest way home to the same country--to the same roof.
Nay, that is almost too improbable; and yet it is true. You may ask
the naturalist, he will confess it is so; and you know it yourself,
for you have seen it.

But the jewel in the head of the toad?

Seek it in the sun; see it there if you can.

The brightness is too dazzling there. We have not yet such eyes as
can see into the glories which God has created, but we shall receive
them by-and-by; and that will be the most beautiful story of all,
and we shall all have our share in it.




THE TOP AND BALL

A whipping top and a little ball lay together in a box, among
other toys, and the top said to the ball, "Shall we be married, as
we live in the same box? "

But the ball, which wore a dress of morocco leather, and thought
as much of herself as any other young lady, would not even
condescend to reply.

The next day came the little boy to whom the playthings
belonged, and he painted the top red and yellow, and drove a
brass-headed nail into the middle, so that while the top was
spinning round it looked splendid.

"Look at me," said the top to the ball. "What do you say now?
Shall we be engaged to each other? We should suit so well; you spring,
and I dance. No one could be happier than we should be. "

"Indeed! do you think so? Perhaps you do not know that my father
and mother were morocco slippers, and that I have a Spanish cork in my
body. "

"Yes; but I am made of mahogany," said the top. "The major himself
turned me. He has a turning lathe of his own, and it is a great
amusement to him. "

"Can I believe it? " asked the ball.

"May I never be whipped again," said the top, "if I am not telling
you the truth. "

"You certainly know how to speak for yourself very well," said the
ball; "but I cannot accept your proposal. I am almost engaged to a
swallow. Every time I fly up in the air, he puts his head out of the
nest, and says, 'Will you? ' and I have said, 'Yes,' to myself
silently, and that is as good as being half engaged; but I will
promise never to forget you. "

"Much good that will be to me," said the top; and they spoke to
each other no more.

Next day the ball was taken out by the boy. The top saw it
flying high in the air, like a bird, till it would go quite out of
sight. Each time it came back, as it touched the earth, it gave a
higher leap than before, either because it longed to fly upwards, or
from having a Spanish cork in its body. But the ninth time it rose
in the air, it remained away, and did not return. The boy searched
everywhere for it, but he searched in vain, for it could not be found;
it was gone.

"I know very well where she is," sighed the top; "she is in the
swallow's nest, and has married the swallow. "

The more the top thought of this, the more he longed for the ball.
His love increased the more, just because he could not get her; and
that she should have been won by another, was the worst of all. The
top still twirled about and hummed, but he continued to think of the
ball; and the more he thought of her, the more beautiful she seemed to
his fancy.

Thus several years passed by, and his love became quite old. The
top, also, was no longer young; but there came a day when he looked
handsomer than ever; for he was gilded all over. He was now a golden
top, and whirled and danced about till he hummed quite loud, and was
something worth looking at; but one day he leaped too high, and then
he, also, was gone. They searched everywhere, even in the cellar,
but he was nowhere to be found. Where could he be? He had jumped
into the dust-bin, where all sorts of rubbish were lying:
cabbage-stalks, dust, and rain-droppings that had fallen down from the
gutter under the roof.

"Now I am in a nice place," said he; "my gilding will soon be
washed off here. Oh dear, what a set of rabble I have got amongst! "
And then he glanced at a curious round thing like an old apple,
which lay near a long, leafless cabbage-stalk. It was, however, not an
apple, but an old ball, which had lain for years in the gutter, and
was soaked through with water.

"Thank goodness, here comes one of my own class, with whom I can
talk," said the ball, examining the gilded top. "I am made of
morocco," she said. "I was sewn together by a young lady, and I have a
Spanish cork in my body; but no one would think it, to look at me now.
I was once engaged to a swallow; but I fell in here from the gutter
under the roof, and I have lain here more than five years, and have
been thoroughly drenched. Believe me, it is a long time for a young
maiden. "

The top said nothing, but he thought of his old love; and the more
she said, the more clear it became to him that this was the same ball.

The servant then came to clean out the dust-bin.

"Ah," she exclaimed, "here is a gilt top. " So the top was
brought again to notice and honor, but nothing more was heard of the
little ball. He spoke not a word about his old love; for that soon
died away. When the beloved object has lain for five years in a
gutter, and has been drenched through, no one cares to know her
again on meeting her in a dust-bin.




THE TRAVELLING COMPANION

Poor John was very sad; for his father was so ill, he had no
hope of his recovery. John sat alone with the sick man in the little
room, and the lamp had nearly burnt out; for it was late in the night.

"You have been a good son, John," said the sick father, "and God
will help you on in the world. " He looked at him, as he spoke, with
mild, earnest eyes, drew a deep sigh, and died; yet it appeared as
if he still slept.

John wept bitterly. He had no one in the wide world now; neither
father, mother, brother, nor sister. Poor John! he knelt down by the
bed, kissed his dead father's hand, and wept many, many bitter
tears. But at last his eyes closed, and he fell asleep with his head
resting against the hard bedpost. Then he dreamed a strange dream;
he thought he saw the sun shining upon him, and his father alive and
well, and even heard him laughing as he used to do when he was very
happy. A beautiful girl, with a golden crown on her head, and long,
shining hair, gave him her hand; and his father said, "See what a
bride you have won. She is the loveliest maiden on the whole earth. "
Then he awoke, and all the beautiful things vanished before his
eyes, his father lay dead on the bed, and he was all alone. Poor John!

During the following week the dead man was buried. The son
walked behind the coffin which contained his father, whom he so dearly
loved, and would never again behold. He heard the earth fall on the
coffin-lid, and watched it till only a corner remained in sight, and
at last that also disappeared. He felt as if his heart would break
with its weight of sorrow, till those who stood round the grave sang a
psalm, and the sweet, holy tones brought tears into his eyes, which
relieved him. The sun shone brightly down on the green trees, as if it
would say, "You must not be so sorrowful, John. Do you see the
beautiful blue sky above you? Your father is up there, and he prays to
the loving Father of all, that you may do well in the future. "

"I will always be good," said John, "and then I shall go to be
with my father in heaven. What joy it will be when we see each other
again!
How much I shall have to relate to him, and how many things
he will be able to explain to me of the delights of heaven, and
teach me as he once did on earth. Oh, what joy it will be! "

He pictured it all so plainly to himself, that he smiled even
while the tears ran down his cheeks.

The little birds in the chestnut-trees twittered, "Tweet,
tweet;" they were so happy, although they had seen the funeral; but
they seemed as if they knew that the dead man was now in heaven, and
that he had wings much larger and more beautiful than their own; and
he was happy now, because he had been good here on earth, and they
were glad of it. John saw them fly away out of the green trees into
the wide world, and he longed to fly with them; but first he cut out a
large wooden cross, to place on his father's grave; and when he
brought it there in the evening, he found the grave decked out with
gravel and flowers. Strangers had done this; they who had known the
good old father who was now dead, and who had loved him very much.

Early the next morning, John packed up his little bundle of
clothes, and placed all his money, which consisted of fifty dollars
and a few shillings, in his girdle; with this he determined to try his
fortune in the world. But first he went into the churchyard; and, by
his father's grave, he offered up a prayer, and said, "Farewell. "

As he passed through the fields, all the flowers looked fresh
and beautiful in the warm sunshine, and nodded in the wind, as if they
wished to say, "Welcome to the green wood, where all is fresh and
bright. "

Then John turned to have one more look at the old church, in which
he had been christened in his infancy, and where his father had
taken him every Sunday to hear the service and join in singing the
psalms. As he looked at the old tower, he espied the ringer standing
at one of the narrow openings, with his little pointed red cap on
his head, and shading his eyes from the sun with his bent arm. John
nodded farewell to him, and the little ringer waved his red cap,
laid his hand on his heart, and kissed his hand to him a great many
times, to show that he felt kindly towards him, and wished him a
prosperous journey.

John continued his journey, and thought of all the wonderful
things he should see in the large, beautiful world, till he found
himself farther away from home than ever he had been before. He did
not even know the names of the places he passed through, and could
scarcely understand the language of the people he met, for he was
far away, in a strange land. The first night he slept on a haystack,
out in the fields, for there was no other bed for him; but it seemed
to him so nice and comfortable that even a king need not wish for a
better. The field, the brook, the haystack, with the blue sky above,
formed a beautiful sleeping-room. The green grass, with the little red
and white flowers, was the carpet; the elder-bushes and the hedges
of wild roses looked like garlands on the walls; and for a bath he
could have the clear, fresh water of the brook; while the rushes bowed
their heads to him, to wish him good morning and good evening. The
moon, like a large lamp, hung high up in the blue ceiling, and he
had no fear of its setting fire to his curtains. John slept here quite
safely all night; and when he awoke, the sun was up, and all the
little birds were singing round him, "Good morning, good morning.
Are you not up yet? "

It was Sunday, and the bells were ringing for church. As the
people went in, John followed them; he heard God's word, joined in
singing the psalms, and listened to the preacher. It seemed to him
just as if he were in his own church, where he had been christened,
and had sung the psalms with his father. Out in the churchyard were
several graves, and on some of them the grass had grown very high.
John thought of his father's grave, which he knew at last would look
like these, as he was not there to weed and attend to it. Then he
set to work, pulled up the high grass, raised the wooden crosses which
had fallen down, and replaced the wreaths which had been blown away
from their places by the wind, thinking all the time, "Perhaps some
one is doing the same for my father's grave, as I am not there to do
it. "

Outside the church door stood an old beggar, leaning on his
crutch. John gave him his silver shillings, and then he continued
his journey, feeling lighter and happier than ever. Towards evening,
the weather became very stormy, and he hastened on as quickly as he
could, to get shelter; but it was quite dark by the time he reached
a little lonely church which stood on a hill. "I will go in here,"
he said, "and sit down in a corner; for I am quite tired, and want
rest. "

So he went in, and seated himself; then he folded his hands, and
offered up his evening prayer, and was soon fast asleep and
dreaming, while the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed
without. When he awoke, it was still night; but the storm had
ceased, and the moon shone in upon him through the windows. Then he
saw an open coffin standing in the centre of the church, which
contained a dead man, waiting for burial. John was not at all timid;
he had a good conscience, and he knew also that the dead can never
injure any one. It is living wicked men who do harm to others. Two
such wicked persons stood now by the dead man, who had been brought to
the church to be buried. Their evil intentions were to throw the
poor dead body outside the church door, and not leave him to rest in
his coffin.

"Why do you do this? " asked John, when he saw what they were going
to do; "it is very wicked. Leave him to rest in peace, in Christ's
name. "

"Nonsense," replied the two dreadful men. "He has cheated us; he
owed us money which he could not pay, and now he is dead we shall
not get a penny; so we mean to have our revenge, and let him lie
like a dog outside the church door. "

"I have only fifty dollars," said John, "it is all I possess in
the world, but I will give it to you if you will promise me faithfully
to leave the dead man in peace. I shall be able to get on without
the money; I have strong and healthy limbs, and God will always help
me. "

"Why, of course," said the horrid men, "if you will pay his debt
we will both promise not to touch him. You may depend upon that;"
and then they took the money he offered them, laughed at him for his
good nature, and went their way.

Then he laid the dead body back in the coffin, folded the hands,
and took leave of it; and went away contentedly through the great
forest. All around him he could see the prettiest little elves dancing
in the moonlight, which shone through the trees. They were not
disturbed by his appearance, for they knew he was good and harmless
among men. They are wicked people only who can never obtain a
glimpse of fairies. Some of them were not taller than the breadth of a
finger, and they wore golden combs in their long, yellow hair. They
were rocking themselves two together on the large dew-drops with which
the leaves and the high grass were sprinkled. Sometimes the
dew-drops would roll away, and then they fell down between the stems
of the long grass, and caused a great deal of laughing and noise among
the other little people. It was quite charming to watch them at
play. Then they sang songs, and John remembered that he had learnt
those pretty songs when he was a little boy. Large speckled spiders,
with silver crowns on their heads, were employed to spin suspension
bridges and palaces from one hedge to another, and when the tiny drops
fell upon them, they glittered in the moonlight like shining glass.
This continued till sunrise. Then the little elves crept into the
flower-buds, and the wind seized the bridges and palaces, and
fluttered them in the air like cobwebs.

As John left the wood, a strong man's voice called after him,
"Hallo, comrade, where are you travelling? "

"Into the wide world," he replied; "I am only a poor lad, I have
neither father nor mother, but God will help me. "

"I am going into the wide world also," replied the stranger;
"shall we keep each other company? "

"With all my heart," he said, and so they went on together. Soon
they began to like each other very much, for they were both good;
but John found out that the stranger was much more clever than
himself. He had travelled all over the world, and could describe
almost everything. The sun was high in the heavens when they seated
themselves under a large tree to eat their breakfast, and at the
same moment an old woman came towards them. She was very old and
almost bent double. She leaned upon a stick and carried on her back
a bundle of firewood, which she had collected in the forest; her apron
was tied round it, and John saw three great stems of fern and some
willow twigs peeping out. Just as she came close up to them, her
foot slipped and she fell to the ground screaming loudly; poor old
woman, she had broken her leg! John proposed directly that they should
carry the old woman home to her cottage; but the stranger opened his
knapsack and took out a box, in which he said he had a salve that
would quickly make her leg well and strong again, so that she would be
able to walk home herself, as if her leg had never been broken. And
all that he would ask in return was the three fern stems which she
carried in her apron.

"That is rather too high a price," said the old woman, nodding her
head quite strangely. She did not seem at all inclined to part with
the fern stems. However, it was not very agreeable to lie there with a
broken leg, so she gave them to him; and such was the power of the
ointment, that no sooner had he rubbed her leg with it than the old
mother rose up and walked even better than she had done before. But
then this wonderful ointment could not be bought at a chemist's.

"What can you want with those three fern rods? " asked John of
his fellow-traveller.

"Oh, they will make capital brooms," said he; "and I like them
because I have strange whims sometimes. " Then they walked on
together for a long distance.

"How dark the sky is becoming," said John; "and look at those
thick, heavy clouds. "

"Those are not clouds," replied his fellow-traveller; "they are
mountains--large lofty mountains--on the tops of which we should be
above the clouds, in the pure, free air. Believe me, it is
delightful to ascend so high, tomorrow we shall be there. " But the
mountains were not so near as they appeared; they had to travel a
whole day before they reached them, and pass through black forests and
piles of rock as large as a town. The journey had been so fatiguing
that John and his fellow-traveller stopped to rest at a roadside
inn, so that they might gain strength for their journey on the morrow.
In the large public room of the inn a great many persons were
assembled to see a comedy performed by dolls. The showman had just
erected his little theatre, and the people were sitting round the room
to witness the performance. Right in front, in the very best place,
sat a stout butcher, with a great bull-dog by his side who seemed very
much inclined to bite. He sat staring with all his eyes, and so indeed
did every one else in the room. And then the play began. It was a
pretty piece, with a king and a queen in it, who sat on a beautiful
throne, and had gold crowns on their heads. The trains to their
dresses were very long, according to the fashion; while the
prettiest of wooden dolls, with glass eyes and large mustaches,
stood at the doors, and opened and shut them, that the fresh air might
come into the room. It was a very pleasant play, not at all
mournful; but just as the queen stood up and walked across the
stage, the great bull-dog, who should have been held back by his
master, made a spring forward, and caught the queen in the teeth by
the slender wrist, so that it snapped in two. This was a very dreadful
disaster. The poor man, who was exhibiting the dolls, was much
annoyed, and quite sad about his queen; she was the prettiest doll
he had, and the bull-dog had broken her head and shoulders off. But
after all the people were gone away, the stranger, who came with John,
said that he could soon set her to rights. And then he brought out his
box and rubbed the doll with some of the salve with which he had cured
the old woman when she broke her leg. As soon as this was done the
doll's back became quite right again; her head and shoulders were
fixed on, and she could even move her limbs herself: there was now
no occasion to pull the wires, for the doll acted just like a living
creature, excepting that she could not speak. The man to whom the show
belonged was quite delighted at having a doll who could dance of
herself without being pulled by the wires; none of the other dolls
could do this.

During the night, when all the people at the inn were gone to bed,
some one was heard to sigh so deeply and painfully, and the sighing
continued for so long a time, that every one got up to see what
could be the matter. The showman went at once to his little theatre
and found that it proceeded from the dolls, who all lay on the floor
sighing piteously, and staring with their glass eyes; they all
wanted to be rubbed with the ointment, so that, like the queen, they
might be able to move of themselves. The queen threw herself on her
knees, took off her beautiful crown, and, holding it in her hand,
cried, "Take this from me, but do rub my husband and his courtiers. "

The poor man who owned the theatre could scarcely refrain from
weeping; he was so sorry that he could not help them. Then he
immediately spoke to John's comrade, and promised him all the money he
might receive at the next evening's performance, if he would only
rub the ointment on four or five of his dolls. But the fellow-traveller
said he did not require anything in return, excepting the sword
which the showman wore by his side. As soon as he received the
sword he anointed six of the dolls with the ointment, and they
were able immediately to dance so gracefully that all the living girls
in the room could not help joining in the dance. The coachman danced
with the cook, and the waiters with the chambermaids, and all the
strangers joined; even the tongs and the fire-shovel made an
attempt, but they fell down after the first jump. So after all it
was a very merry night. The next morning John and his companion left
the inn to continue their journey through the great pine-forests and
over the high mountains. They arrived at last at such a great height
that towns and villages lay beneath them, and the church steeples
looked like little specks between the green trees. They could see
for miles round, far away to places they had never visited, and John
saw more of the beautiful world than he had ever known before. The sun
shone brightly in the blue firmament above, and through the clear
mountain air came the sound of the huntsman's horn, and the soft,
sweet notes brought tears into his eyes, and he could not help
exclaiming, "How good and loving God is to give us all this beauty and
loveliness in the world to make us happy! "

His fellow-traveller stood by with folded hands, gazing on the
dark wood and the towns bathed in the warm sunshine. At this moment
there sounded over their heads sweet music. They looked up, and
discovered a large white swan hovering in the air, and singing as
never bird sang before. But the song soon became weaker and weaker,
the bird's head drooped, and he sunk slowly down, and lay dead at
their feet.

"It is a beautiful bird," said the traveller, "and these large
white wings are worth a great deal of money. I will take them with me.
You see now that a sword will be very useful. "

So he cut off the wings of the dead swan with one blow, and
carried them away with him.

They now continued their journey over the mountains for many
miles, till they at length reached a large city, containing hundreds
of towers, that shone in the sunshine like silver. In the midst of the
city stood a splendid marble palace, roofed with pure red gold, in
which dwelt the king. John and his companion would not go into the
town immediately; so they stopped at an inn outside the town, to
change their clothes; for they wished to appear respectable as they
walked through the streets. The landlord told them that the king was a
very good man, who never injured any one: but as to his daughter,
"Heaven defend us! "

She was indeed a wicked princess. She possessed beauty enough--nobody
could be more elegant or prettier than she was; but what of
that? for she was a wicked witch; and in consequence of her conduct
many noble young princes had lost their lives. Any one was at
liberty to make her an offer; were he a prince or a beggar, it
mattered not to her. She would ask him to guess three things which she
had just thought of, and if he succeed, he was to marry her, and be
king over all the land when her father died; but if he could not guess
these three things, then she ordered him to be hanged or to have his
head cut off. The old king, her father, was very much grieved at her
conduct, but he could not prevent her from being so wicked, because he
once said he would have nothing more to do with her lovers; she
might do as she pleased. Each prince who came and tried the three
guesses, so that he might marry the princess, had been unable to
find them out, and had been hanged or beheaded. They had all been
warned in time, and might have left her alone, if they would. The
old king became at last so distressed at all these dreadful
circumstances, that for a whole day every year he and his soldiers
knelt and prayed that the princess might become good; but she
continued as wicked as ever. The old women who drank brandy would
color it quite black before they drank it, to show how they mourned;
and what more could they do?

"What a horrible princess! " said John; "she ought to be well
flogged. If I were the old king, I would have her punished in some
way. "

Just then they heard the people outside shouting, "Hurrah! " and,
looking out, they saw the princess passing by; and she was really so
beautiful that everybody forgot her wickedness, and shouted
"Hurrah! " Twelve lovely maidens in white silk dresses, holding
golden tulips in their hands, rode by her side on coal-black horses.
The princess herself had a snow-white steed, decked with diamonds
and rubies. Her dress was of cloth of gold, and the whip she held in
her hand looked like a sunbeam. The golden crown on her head glittered
like the stars of heaven, and her mantle was formed of thousands of
butterflies' wings sewn together. Yet she herself was more beautiful
than all.

When John saw her, his face became as red as a drop of blood,
and he could scarcely utter a word. The princess looked exactly like
the beautiful lady with the golden crown, of whom he had dreamed on
the night his father died. She appeared to him so lovely that he could
not help loving her.

"It could not be true," he thought, "that she was really a
wicked witch, who ordered people to be hanged or beheaded, if they
could not guess her thoughts. Every one has permission to go and ask
her hand, even the poorest beggar. I shall pay a visit to the palace,"
he said; "I must go, for I cannot help myself. "

Then they all advised him not to attempt it; for he would be
sure to share the same fate as the rest. His fellow-traveller also
tried to persuade him against it; but John seemed quite sure of
success. He brushed his shoes and his coat, washed his face and his
hands, combed his soft flaxen hair, and then went out alone into the
town, and walked to the palace.

"Come in," said the king, as John knocked at the door. John opened
it, and the old king, in a dressing gown and embroidered slippers,
came towards him. He had the crown on his head, carried his sceptre in
one hand, and the orb in the other. "Wait a bit," said he, and he
placed the orb under his arm, so that he could offer the other hand to
John; but when he found that John was another suitor, he began to weep
so violently, that both the sceptre and the orb fell to the floor, and
he was obliged to wipe his eyes with his dressing gown. Poor old king!
"Let her alone," he said; "you will fare as badly as all the others.
Come, I will show you. " Then he led him out into the princess's
pleasure gardens, and there he saw a frightful sight. On every tree
hung three or four king's sons who had wooed the princess, but had not
been able to guess the riddles she gave them. Their skeletons
rattled in every breeze, so that the terrified birds never dared to
venture into the garden. All the flowers were supported by human bones
instead of sticks, and human skulls in the flower-pots grinned
horribly. It was really a doleful garden for a princess. "Do you see
all this? " said the old king; "your fate will be the same as those who
are here, therefore do not attempt it. You really make me very
unhappy,--I take these things to heart so very much. "

John kissed the good old king's hand, and said he was sure it
would be all right, for he was quite enchanted with the beautiful
princess. Then the princess herself came riding into the palace yard
with all her ladies, and he wished her "Good morning. " She looked
wonderfully fair and lovely when she offered her hand to John, and
he loved her more than ever. How could she be a wicked witch, as all
the people asserted? He accompanied her into the hall, and the
little pages offered them gingerbread nuts and sweetmeats, but the old
king was so unhappy he could eat nothing, and besides, gingerbread
nuts were too hard for him. It was decided that John should come to
the palace the next day, when the judges and the whole of the
counsellors would be present, to try if he could guess the first
riddle. If he succeeded, he would have to come a second time; but if
not, he would lose his life,--and no one had ever been able to guess
even one. However, John was not at all anxious about the result of his
trial; on the contrary, he was very merry. He thought only of the
beautiful princess, and believed that in some way he should have help,
but how he knew not, and did not like to think about it; so he
danced along the high-road as he went back to the inn, where he had
left his fellow-traveller waiting for him. John could not refrain from
telling him how gracious the princess had been, and how beautiful
she looked. He longed for the next day so much, that he might go to
the palace and try his luck at guessing the riddles. But his comrade
shook his head, and looked very mournful. "I do so wish you to do
well," said he; "we might have continued together much longer, and now
I am likely to lose you; you poor dear John! I could shed tears, but I
will not make you unhappy on the last night we may be together. We
will be merry, really merry this evening; to-morrow, after you are
gone, shall be able to weep undisturbed. "

It was very quickly known among the inhabitants of the town that
another suitor had arrived for the princess, and there was great
sorrow in consequence. The theatre remained closed, the women who sold
sweetmeats tied crape round the sugar-sticks, and the king and the
priests were on their knees in the church. There was a great
lamentation, for no one expected John to succeed better than those who
had been suitors before.

In the evening John's comrade prepared a large bowl of punch,
and said, "Now let us be merry, and drink to the health of the
princess. " But after drinking two glasses, John became so sleepy, that
he could not keep his eyes open, and fell fast asleep. Then his
fellow-traveller lifted him gently out of his chair, and laid him on
the bed; and as soon as it was quite dark, he took the two large wings
which he had cut from the dead swan, and tied them firmly to his own
shoulders. Then he put into his pocket the largest of the three rods
which he had obtained from the old woman who had fallen and broken her
leg. After this he opened the window, and flew away over the town,
straight towards the palace, and seated himself in a corner, under the
window which looked into the bedroom of the princess.

The town was perfectly still when the clocks struck a quarter to
twelve. Presently the window opened, and the princess, who had large
black wings to her shoulders, and a long white mantle, flew away
over the city towards a high mountain. The fellow-traveller, who had
made himself invisible, so that she could not possibly see him, flew
after her through the air, and whipped the princess with his rod, so
that the blood came whenever he struck her. Ah, it was a strange
flight through the air! The wind caught her mantle, so that it
spread out on all sides, like the large sail of a ship, and the moon
shone through it. "How it hails, to be sure! " said the princess, at
each blow she received from the rod; and it served her right to be
whipped.

At last she reached the side of the mountain, and knocked. The
mountain opened with a noise like the roll of thunder, and the
princess went in. The traveller followed her; no one could see him, as
he had made himself invisible. They went through a long, wide passage.
A thousand gleaming spiders ran here and there on the walls, causing
them to glitter as if they were illuminated with fire.